


To Be a Father

by Ravenia



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jeralt the One-Man Show, Parenthood, Some Humor, Spoilers, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23062267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenia/pseuds/Ravenia
Summary: If there was one thing that Jeralt regretted, it was leaving his daughter all too soon and not being able to tell her everything. So when Sothis, twisting Fate, gives him a second chance, he doesn’t run from the monastery. No. Instead, he resigns from his post and asks to take charge of Abyss.He might not be able to save them all, but that sure as hell won’t stop him from trying.[Time Travelling Jeralt, blurred routes and timelines, spoilers, canon divergence]
Comments: 12
Kudos: 117





	1. Regret

**Author's Note:**

> So I just wondered.. what happened if Jeralt knew what happened and stuff... It became, well, this. I'm still not quite sure how long this is going to be, but I hope you enjoy the ride nonetheless.

**XXX**

_The depth of the love of parents for their children cannot be measured._

_It is like no other relationship. It exceeds concern for life itself._

_The love of a parent for a child is continuous, and transcends heartbreak and disappointment_

– James E. Faust

**XXX**

He saw it all. Witnessed it as if it was his own tale, as if he was there and lived through all of it.

With only helplessness and frustrated desperation as his only company.

His fists clenching while he watched as his daughter nearly died when the Imperial army invaded the monastery, her taking up arms in its defense along with her students. Grim determination on her face while the odds seemed overwhelming, their only possible means of victory being her breadth of tactics and leadership. As she took on a war against all odds, his heart swelling with pride as she'd won. His heart aching at seeing her heart break for her students whom she thought she had failed during her recovery. It didn’t matter if they told her it was alright, that it was okay, that they were simply glad that she was alive. As her father, he knew.

She blamed herself.

Blamed herself, hating herself each time one of her former students (who were on the other side of the war) was killed. Having to kill those who she had taught during their time in the Academy before being injured. Before her five-year recovery. Not to mention the whole thing with Sitri and Aelfric, the damn bastard.

How he longed to talk to her, desperately wished to be with her to comfort and reassure her. To be there for her as her father, to make sure she wasn’t alone. To just _be there for her_. Countless times, frustration and anger crashed over him. Overwhelmed him. Mixed with helpless desperation and the fervent desire to help his daughter.

But he couldn’t, because he was dead. Because he _got fucking careless and died_.

Her students did well though. Rallying around her. Gave her the space she needed, never pushing or forcing her to do things. Gently encouraging her, checked up on her. Making sure she ate when she could and doing their best to make her laugh by being themselves.

It was hard to deal with the blow of each new truth though. The fact that his daughter was a vessel of the progenitor god (the man wholly supported Seteth’s angry questioning of Rhea), the Adrestrian princess being the Flame Emperor, the reveal of Nemesis and Those Who Slither In the Dark…

He wished he could be there for her. Was there with her.

Though it wasn’t entirely bad. She fell in love, too (though he did lament the fact that he couldn’t be there to have certain _words_ with the man). Still, it warmed him when he saw her smile and laugh when she was with him.

So long as she was happy, he'd be content, after all.

Yet…

Somehow, he wished things were different. That he was there to be with her. His daughter. _‘She shouldn’t have to rule the continent,’_ the knight-captain wanted to yell and punch the nearest wall. It wasn’t her mess to clean up, dammit. _Fodlan_ wasn’t her mess.

And she shouldn’t have had to bury her students. Shouldn’t have had to kill her students. Shouldn’t have…

“My, how interesting.”

Jeralt whipped around, hand instinctively moving to his blade. Only…to see a small, green-haired girl dressed in mysterious garb, immense power emitting from her tiny frame.

“And who the hell are you?”

“How rude. I can see where she got it from,” the girl said, shaking her head in disapproval. “But just this once, I shall oblige.” Mischief flitted across her features as a smirk curled up on the edge of her lips.

“My name is Sothis, and I am the Beginning.”

It was rare that the knight captain was startled, much less caught off-guard. He had seen his fair share of weird things and heard a lot of tall tales in his (long) life, but this…

This was something else entirely.

“You’re…”

“The progenitor god, yes,” Sothis nodded, amusement glinting in her eyes.

She was…She was the Goddess of Creation? What the hell… Countless questions bombarded his mind, like what was she doing here? And where was he even anyway? What was this place?

Her next words caught his attention, breaking him from the sudden onslaught of thoughts.

“However, I do not have much time so we must speak quickly. Do you wish to live?”

Did she really mean…

The former knight captain folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at the goddess. “Course I do, but what’s the catch?”

A slow, approving smile crossed her delicate features. “How astute of you. But yes… Should you choose to return, you must save all of them.”

“The Princess of Adestria, the heir of House Riegan and finally, the Prince of Faerghus. The three of them must live, and so must the Ashen Wolves for the balance to remain.”

There was something more to what she was implying. Or saying.

Pressing a finger to his temple, the large man heaved a sigh as he looked her straight in the eyes. “Let me guess, you want me to take care of Nemesis and those Slithers too.”

A nod.

“Precisely.”

“And what happens if I fail?”

“Then it will be for naught.”

Weighing his choices, his mind flashed towards all the things could’ve done. How he could’ve helped. All the times Byleth had cried. Of all the burdens that she shouldn’t have to carry.

The few times where she’d begged for her life to be taken in the four walls of her room as she didn’t know how to go on. Couldn’t bring herself to go on.

How she’d holed up in his quarters for a month. Grieving for him and not living.

Resolve rose, firming like reinforced steel and making itself known.

"Alright. So...let's say I agree to this...deal of yours, when are you putting me, exactly?" The mercenary questioned as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Before the fire."

He remembered that week. That week of planning, avoiding Rhea and the knights and hiding. Distancing himself from the others, even Alois who had been concerned about him.

Could he do it? Save them all?

...No. He would do it. He _would_. For his daughter. For Byleth.

Shifting his gaze from the vast, empty 'sky' and finally breaking away from his thoughts, Jeralt turned to look at the goddess.

“Take me back.”

_I hope you’re watching this, Sitri._


	2. Restart

**XXX**

_"Guilt is regret for what we've done._

_Regret is guilt for what we didn't do."_

\- Unknown

**XXX**

Had it all been a dream?

Jeralt jerked up, shoving away the covers while beads of sweat dripped down his face. The sound of his heartbeat thumping thundered in his ears while consciousness seeped through his veins and he returned to reality.

_Breathe_.

One, two. One, two.

Better.

Gradually, his surroundings blurred into view and breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. The familiar polished bookshelves, deep red-brown walls and carpeted floor. His trusty weapon – the blade of Palixir shone in the dim moonlight filtering through the barest space between the curtains on his bedside table. A large backpack stood innocently near the door, filled to brim with travel necessities and provisions.

It seemed that what Sothis said was true. Came true. He was _alive,_ and -

Wait a second. Byleth, where was she?!

Leaping off his bed, the knight-captain tossed off the comforter entirely, scrambling to his feet to look for his daughter. Where was she?

No, not there. Not there either. Where was –

Relief swept through him like a tidal wave as he spotted her cot in the corner. Hastily making his way to her, an automatic smile spread across his features at seeing her peacefully asleep.

Gods, Sitri would've loved to be here. To -

No, he couldn't let himself go there.

Byleth looked so _peaceful_.

He wanted to touch her, but knew that she’d wake up at the slightest touch. Byleth had always been rather sensitive to her surroundings.

Still, he was content. Here, his daughter wasn’t the ruler of Fodlan nor Fodlan’s janitor. Nor had she killed anyone close to her. No. Here, she was just Byleth, his daughter and he would do all that he could to keep it that way. Rhea could go on ruling Fodlan for all he cared, or any of the royal brats. If anyone wanted Byleth to rule, it wouldn’t be by forcing her to. They’d need to talk to her _and_ him first. Maybe even a little duel...

Right now though, he needed a plan.

The brats wouldn’t be around for a few years yet, he mused. That was good. It would give him time needed to build his own little army. The Knights of Seiros were strongly loyal to Rhea, unfortunately. And while part of him was okay with the woman, he couldn’t overlook the fact that she’d fucking made his daughter the vessel of the progenitor god _and_ froze his wife’s body which made that entire fiasco with bastard Aelfred possible.

Which forced Byleth to fight a bloody mutation of Aelfred and his wife.

Forcing his rage to calm, he breathed in. No matter how he put it, there was no doubt that there would be future confrontations between him and Rhea.

If he wanted to build his army effectively, he’d need to do it in plain sight. Which left him with one option:

Aelfric’s little project: Abyss. Except that the old Cardinal wouldn’t be in charge of it anymore, but him.

A smirk crossed the time-traveller’s face.

Yes, that would do nicely.

**XXXXX**

**The next day**

It had been almost two weeks after Sitri’s death.

Staring at the familiar doors to the audience chambers, Jeralt took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

Right.

With steady steps, the man entered the audience chamber where Rhea and Seteth were. The Archbishop stood tall with her hands clasped, emitting a graceful air as she carried a conversation with her second-in-command. Clad in her usual white robes and elegant headpiece perfectly poised on her bright green hair, a rare flash of surprise and concern flitted through her features at seeing his expression.

“Jeralt, it is good to see you.” She smiled, seeming genuinely happy to see him. “Is something the matter?”

Here goes.

“I’m resigning,” Jeralt said flatly.

Silence fell between the three as Rhea took in his words, the smile fading to an inscrutable look on her face.

Seteth looked as if he was about to say something, until Rhea shot him a look that made him clamp his mouth shut.

“I thought you would,” the Archbishop sighed softly and the smile disappeared fully. “Your leadership will be missed, just as your presence will be by the knights. Alois in particular will be most upset.”

This…her reaction was unexpected to say the least.

Something in his expression must have shifted because a slight glimmer of amusement appeared in her eyes.

“Come on now, Jeralt, you are one of my dearest friends. Did you think that I would not notice?” She chided gently. “I was concerned, as were Seteth and Alois. We thought it prudent for you to organize your thoughts. I arranged for Alois and some of your men to handle your duties.”

The former mercenary had always been good at reading people. He had to be, considering his position and reputation as knight-captain and mercenary in his past life. And from what he was seeing, Rhea was…actually being sincere. She meant it.

He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about this. Still, Byleth was his priority.

Suddenly, a thought struck him like a bolt of lightning. Was it possible that this world was different?

“Do you wish to leave Garreg Mach?” She asked, lightly probing.

The knight-captain shoved his thoughts to the back of his mind. He needed to focus. After all, she just gave him his opening.

“Actually…”

**XXX**

Rhea listened to his proposal patiently.

“A refuge for those with no homes,” she mused. A slight smile crossed her lips. “Sitri would have been proud.” Ignoring the twinge in his chest at the mention of his wife, Jeralt focused on her next words. “We would be happy to support this project. Don’t you agree, Seteth?”

Wearing a thoughtful expression, Seteth nodded. “Indeed. However, I do have a concern and that is the location.”

“There is plenty of space beneath Garreg Mach,” Rhea interjected delicately with a wave. “Though we would need to look into constructing proper routes between the two to ensure order, and it would not do for this new place to lack in food and resources.”

Coming to a decision, the Archbishop straightened her posture. “Very well. Jeralt, you may take Alois and some of your men to help you in this project of yours. More details regarding the place beneath Garreg Mach will be sent to your quarters.

"Your priorities are as follow: drawing up your proposal in full and securing a proper location. Only then will I officially accept your resignation. Will that be acceptable?”

The knight-captain nodded, offering a bow as per formality.

“My thanks, Lady Rhea.” The tight feeling in his chest loosened as a wave of relief washed over him. He figured that it wouldn’t be that easy. But being intimately familiar with the workings of the church due to his position, he knew that the proposal would have to be submitted to the Cardinals as a formality. Not that it would be an issue with Rhea and the Knights of Seiros’ support, along with his reputation.

_And so it begins_.

**XXX**

The green-haired man watched with slightly furrowed brows as the knight-captain left. His senses, finely tuned over the course of centuries, were telling him that something was off.

But grief changed people. Jeralt had lost his wife, and only had his child left. He hadn’t taken Sitri’s death well, holing up in his quarters and avoiding everyone possible for almost two weeks. Even Alois couldn’t get him to open up, and the pair were like family though Jeralt would never admit it out loud.

Perhaps he was simply being paranoid, Seteth mused. Still, he would keep an eye on the man for now.

“Seteth,” Rhea’s voice broke into his thoughts. The immortal raised a questioning eyebrow at his kin.

“Please inform Alois of his latest assignment,” the Archbishop said. “I will make preparations for the meeting with the Cardinals.” It was clear that she had no doubt that Jeralt would succeed, and honestly, so did he.

“Understood.”

Yes, he would keep his thoughts to himself for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took awhile, but I'm finally glad to have it out. The upcoming chapters will probably take longer as I really want to delve into more stuff - hopefully I don't run into too many obstacles. Have a good day guys!


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